


Shadow Summoner

by OTL_potato



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Also you will deal with this brainworm that would not leave me, Alternate Universe, Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), But a dark copy of the WoL on the source, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demon Summoning, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy Tactics - Freeform, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, I might not write much more of it but brainworm it is, Like a glitch in the matrix, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), No Smut, Summoning, Technically not Warrior of Light
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTL_potato/pseuds/OTL_potato
Summary: On the First, a young studious lady attempts to unravel the mystery of Summoning. Traditions of such had long been lost by the Flood, yet she is still determined to understand arcanima and learn the arcane magics tied to these geometric symbols. Against all odds, she succeeds.But the primal she binds with is not necessarily an entity that is kind to the world.“Shall you behold for true the fell power of the dark?”





	1. I just need a name

**Author's Note:**

> Alma is a dark scaled Drahn (Au Ra) on the First. In this case she is a shadow shard of the WoL on the Source- like a glitch in the system. She's almost exact in every way except she leans very much towards darker magics.

Yet again, Alma was swimming in books. Much of what she was trying to find wasn’t really there. So much history and lore had been lost to the Flood, leaving her with breadcrumbs to follow. A lot of what the Crystarium had left in their libraries were either the gathered collections of what could be found, or donations from the Crystal Exarch. 

Several books were open at that moment as she tried to decipher the mathematical puzzle that she and her father had been trying to break for decades. There were two different texts based on theoretical geometry, one alchemical research manual on chemistry and how it can tie with aether, and the three available children’s books based on primals of a time hundreds of years ago. 

The main book before her was a massive tome, the grimoire that had been started by her father Nabuhito and that she was still continuing on today. There were several mathematical diagrams that they had successfully copied and been able to use on the field. These ones were tied more to biological chemistry to either heal or damage a target. As she flipped to one of the diagrams in question she snickered to herself. 

"I should ask Moren what I can get for Bethden as an apology," the small drahn woman murmured to herself while her tail mindlessly wagged back and forth behind her chair, "Bethden just came back from leave... Miasma is certainly a lingering spell..." 

Several times she tapped her quill on the desk on the rather dark spot she’d formed over a long period of time. They’d given her a specific spot to work given how _often_ she did that. 

"... maybe I can ask the guard to take me out on the field again... I’m able to get _some_ of these incantations working but..." 

Her shoulders shrunk and she sighed, flopping her head directly on the grimiore. She’d made such good progress the week before having successfully cast Miasma, but it was the summoning spells she wanted to make work. Everytime she felt so close, she stumbled again and found herself back at step one. Maybe this was why her father focused more on multiple projects at once- this was frustrating... 

There was a missing piece. Towards the front of the grimoire was the first incantation that he’d discovered, and one of the most complicated in their designs that they’d stumbled upon. It had taken some time to just get the math right as it worked with so many variables and imaginary numbers. As far as she knew it was perfect, but regardless of how much aether was poured in, the book never stirred. 

Not allowing herself to give up just yet, Alma placed both hands on the desk and lifted herself to standing. She raised each of her arms over her head for a good stretch and groaned. As she turned around she lifted her eyes up to the higher reaches of the Cabinet of Curiosities, looking less for a book and more for someone. Spotting the woman on the second floor she skittered up the ramp. She curved round the corner of the nook and flashed a wide, fang filled grin. 

"Chantildeeeeee," she purred and bent around further, "Were you able to make heads or tails of where the deciphering book by Master Xifitel went? I’ve been on the waitlist for months just for that book." 

"Ug don’t remind me of waitlists," Chantilde groaned as she thumbed her way through the shelf and found another book to pull away, "nobody here knows how to correctly put away the books... do you know how much-" 

"Time was spent organizing this place? Yes, I know," Alma snickered even at her frustration and finally pulled herself around the corner. She slid both her hands behind her back and gave a little sway of her hips. "Pleeeaaase Chantildeeeee? Just let me know if it’s come baaaaack." 

The hume woman groaned loudly and moved over to the table with piles of books and a large scroll list. She unfurled it and wiggled her fingers down the rows upon rows of names and books. At first she was ready to tell Alma, yet again, that the book hadn’t come back. But her eyes lit up in muted surprise. "... it should be back on the base floor. Cabinet twelve, shelf G." 

Even Alma was utterly taken aback by the fact that it had returned to the library. Sea green eyes grew wide and sparkled with excitement. She barely said thanks before she was rushing down the ramp in order to find the book. 

\---- 

Three weeks. Three more weeks had passed and she was still nowhere. 

As much as she wanted to put all her focus into the research, she was getting burnt out. This meant more break times for her mental and physical health. She’d help Chantilde restock shelves, or sometimes help Bethden with his own work. Also baking, _so much baking_ . If she didn’t stop soon the Crystarium would be many onze fatter before the month ended. 

The decryption book helped her more than she’d thought though. It allowed her to unravel those imaginary variables again, realizing they were written not only in an older tongue, but were also meant to keep people from easily being able to decipher the spells. This wasn’t hard simply due to loss of history regarding such studies, it was difficult by design. That was when she finally noticed something. 

There was a gap. The math was _perfect_ but the incantation was missing something. Alma flipped back and forth between the grimoire and her jumble of crazy notes to find the pattern again. And suddenly it all made sense. The summoning ritual wasn’t working because there wasn’t enough aether or the geometry was wrong. There _was_ a missing variable. 

"I’m missing a name-" she muttered to herself before lifting up the grimoire and howled in ecstatic laughter, "I’m missing a name!!!!" 

Her revelry was quickly silenced by many other visitors and her colleagues as they placed pointer fingers to their lips and hushed her. Alma looked around nervously while redness swelled in her freckled cheeks. She gave them sheepish smiles and whispered sorry’s as she slid herself away from her desk. 

But really she didn’t have time to deal with their frustration about the noise. Within moments she was rushing up the ramp with the grimoire tucked tightly against her chest. Bright excitement made her entire face glow, even when she found herself panting as she got to the top. 

Moren was inscribing freshly found tattered scrolls onto new paper when he finally heard the young woman gasping for air. He stared at her bewildered and then carefully set his quil aside. "Alma are... you alright?" 

"I... need... a name..." she choked out the best she could as she tried to catch her breath. Her torso bent at the waist and used her other hand to keep her spectacles from falling. _"I have to... stop doing that..._ " 

"... a name?" he asked even more perplexed as he approached her. An unsure hand reached out to her shoulder, and upon resting on it he helped ease her upright. Still his brows remained tilted in his confusion. "You must narrow it down. There are _many_ names-" 

"Primal names," Alma finally stated as she took in a deep breath, held it, and let it slip from her lips. "A primal name- _any_ primal name. That’s the piece I’m missing. If I can tie together an element with their name, then I should be able to use this incantation to pull out some fraction of their essence into those- what did we transcribe, egi?? There has to be at least-" 

"Alma, Alma." Sorrow took over Moren’s face and he held her shoulder a bit more tightly. It was such a forlorn look as he soon realized after all her hard work, there would be another barrier. "... we’ve only found those old wives’ tales regarding the primals before the Flood. We can’t be sure any of the names used are even the _true_ ones, given how we had to transcribe it from beastly tongue. And the Zun have really been the only ones forthcoming in such assistance..." 

Joy drained from her. It was slow at first, like she was processing what she was being told. It was just _another_ blocker of decades of research. It was right within her grasp, it was _right there_ and yet... and yet... 

But Moren was not ready to let her research go to waste. He gave her a delighted smile and patted her shoulder a couple times. "Why not speak to the Exarch? Surely with his vast knowledge he may possibly know of one. Or! Or!!" The glow in the man’s face was pure and he nodded his head as quick as a piston. "He might have a book- or one- or many that can help!" 

Alma didn’t wait. She yelled out a thank you as she moved to the ramp and made her descent. Instead of running down on her feet, she perched her bottom on the smooth rail and just slid down it with muted, but still excited giggles. The overjoyed expression carried with her as she rushed out from the Cabinet and darted towards the Crystal tower. Enroute several people who had become familiar with the studious librarian tried to wave her down, but she was too focused on her path. 

One step closer. _One step closer_ . 

\----- 

A personal audience with the Exarch. Her innards were _screaming._

The last time she’d been in the Ocular she’d been rather young and with her father. Though the Crystal Exarch spent much time around the Crystarium and made sure to know every face and every name, he was still an incredible mage and almost divine himself. Her arms were shaking and clinging to her grimoire was all that she had to keep herself still. 

The doors finally opened for her and she stood outside it for a moment longer than she’d wanted to. There was a lump in her throat that didn’t want to go down. It took a bit of mental force to swallow it down before she stepped forward into the glorious blue crystal room. 

His smile was always full of acceptance and ease, as was his stature and the way he carried himself. Just the sight and feeling of his calming aura helped soften the anxiety boiling in her stomach. 

"Good day Alma," he chimed as he extended an arm out in welcome as his smile grew, "A message was sent from Moren that you were looking for knowledge, or possibly text on primals?" 

Her head bounced up and down as if it was on an elastic string while she sucked in her lips. The butterflies in her belly just wouldn’t settle. So she clung to the grimoire in her arms just to try and ease the sensations. 

"Yes Exarch. As you... probably are aware- father’s research had been in old arcanima, which most of had been lost to the Flood. We were able to recreate quite a few of the geometric patterns! I think I am up to the last piece of the puzzle but..." She undid the lock on the book in her arms and flipped directly to the page in question. As she bent over it she scanned her finger down the curves and lines until she arrived at a particular spot. "Here. I need to transcribe a name for the incantation to work. But... I have no names to put here." 

"A peculiar issue indeed," the Exarch replied as he canted his head and pressed his curved crystal hand below his jaw. "There are _many_ primals I could name for you. But I am concerned that placing only that in the spell would not be enough... there was a connection between a shard of a primal and it’s partner..." 

For a fleeting moment doubt flashed over her face. Her brows furrowed up to the dark blue scales on her forehead and she let her gaze fall to the floor. _Yet another blocker..._

"I’ll take anything," Alma finally perked up as stared directly at the shadowed man’s face and nodded her head sternly, "a name, a book- _any_ history you can give me. I’ve made it this far, I am not ready to back down just yet." 

Though she had disbelief in her previously, he did not. Determination was a key part of her, and he’d seen that throughout her growing years. To never give up, to never give in- it’s what _she_ would do. 

"Very well. I can give you access to a portion of my library. This should assist in your endeavours." 

The Exarch lifted his open hand and curled his fingers towards him. Realizing the motion, Alma nodded her head, giggled, and followed him out of the Ocular. 

He led her through halls she’d never seen before. She’d heard from others that Syrcus Tower was a maze that only he was able to navigate. Rooms seemed to move without reason, paths would bend that seemed to go against gravity, and even some places didn’t seem to exist in a physical place at all. The path they took reminded her of all those rumors and realized how true they were, especially when he led her through a doorway that seemed to expand out into an empty dark space that was speckled with white glittering lights. 

Crystal stairs shot left and right to create their path, as if they were brought forth from secret dimensions that she herself could not see. It made her a little nervous walking on what felt like such a shaky bridge- especially with a lack of handrail. Her shoulders curled inward as she kept darting her eyes left and right into what seemed like an endless abyss while they continued to climb up in a curve. 

"Fret not, nothing in here can harm you," he finally perked up as he turned his head to look at her. Even with his gaze off his path, there was no fear in him of what may have appeared to be a foolish action. And as he met her gaze his lips pulled up on one corner to form a lopsided, delighted smile. "And if you fall into the emptiness, I promise I’ll catch you." 

"Wait so I _can_ fall!?" Her arms tightened further around her book and she shot her eyes left and right to see into the emptiness. Yet even in her terror, he laughed. 

"No, you cannot. Even if you made an attempt to throw yourself off the edge, the stairs will move to halt your endeavour." A couple times he tapped his staff on the brilliant blue crystal before continuing down their path. 

After some time they made it to the intended location. The door he pressed open was smaller compared to the ones she’d seen at least getting in and out of the tower and the Ocular. The inside of the room was also smaller than she’d expected. It was about the size of a large bedroom, though the decorations on the stone floor and walls were similar to the golden swirls that seemed part of the structure for Syrcus Tower. There was only one cabinet, but it was packed with many different sized and colored books. Not too far from it was an expansive writing desk. 

"... This is your library??" Alma asked with honest confusion in her voice as she entered the small space. "I was..." 

"If I presented you with my full library, you’d spend years trying to parse through to find what you needed," the Exarch replied, again his voice bouncing in merriment and his smile brilliant, "These should at least aid you in your journey into understanding Primals, and maybe in that you will be able to understand the subject better. Though I would be _delighted_ to see you find the solution to your problem. It has been some time since this world has seen a summoner." 

New excitement swelled in her face as her lips pulled up to a happy smile, and then grew until her teeth were bared. She put the grimimore on the writing desk and then patted her hand on her chest. 

"I shall do my best, Exarch! I promise!" 

"I know you will Alma. You always have." 

She didn’t understand the underlying words he tied to his statement, or notice his lingering gaze as she moved to the bookshelf and started pulling away the texts. Silently he closed the door behind her and allowed her the peace and quiet for her work. 


	2. Austerite of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all her research in Crystal Tower, she's met with even more stumbling blocks to be successful in summoning any primal. But she refuses to give up her studies, her desire to bring Summoning magicks back to the world.
> 
> In her dreams she is visited by a powerful figure of the dark. And she is not afraid.

Alma wasn't really sure how long she'd been in this room. A guard came by twice: once with fresh hot tea and later some crackers and cheese. She was thankful for the disturbance but it didn't help her time blindness. Without a clock or people to communicate it, she didn’t know when to stop. 

Two books became four. Four books became six, then eight. Before she knew it most of the shelves were bare and the texts were all over the floor. While only a couple posed any real information towards what she wanted, the stories and history within every book was _fascinating._ Castles within deserts, mountains of snow with dragons, endless boundless sea with water and not burnt stone. 

Sadly much more information presented regarding her search added new hurdles towards her goal. It seemed people required aether trapped within stone to bring forth the needed spirits - crystals carved with similar glyphs. A couple she found referred to topaz or emerald. Scratching her head she wasn't sure she'd be able to find ones large enough to carve the needed sigils, and if she did, could she even afford it? 

Then it grew more complicated. Summoners, the title she'd become familiar with, seemed to be something that Allagan’s created- whoever those people were or even _when_ that civilization existed. The bigger problem was that there were only a bit of history regarding the Summoners, their practices, and what they provided in ‘taming primals’. There was something about them taking in an essence of their being into a _stone_ , but not what kind of stone. Trials of austerity were done to make the pact with the primal, but it didn’t explain what those trials were. She also couldn’t make heads or tails about what an egi was, or what the word even meant. 

Her head landed on the book in front of her and she hit her forehead against the pages several times. Each impact spurred loud groans that were twisted with her frustration. All of her limbs, including her tail hung limp from her body and off the chair. “How is it I open one door and I find forty more before me…” she grumbled as her internal irritation grew. 

Alma lifted her head just enough so she could loop her arms into a folded position under it, and then rested her forehead on the upper most arm. Another low growl slipped from her lips, which turned to a defeated sigh as she slipped her eyes shut. “I just… I can figure this out… I know I can…” 

“… I know I can…” 

…   
…   
… 

_Darkness._

It was all around her. An endless emptiness. Yalms upon yalms of nothing but pitch black. She gazed down to her hand and realized all she could make out was the faint glow of aqua from her limbal rings along the lines of her palm. 

_Weight_ . 

There was something in her left hand. As she lifted it, the flame on the wick in the lantern spurred to life. Fresh light cast over stone walls and floors of a wide hallway. Age was obvious on the bricks: the cracks, the faded colors, the moss and dark water spots. Her boots clicked as she made her way down the path. 

_Cold_ . 

As she crossed the threshold, the room opened wide. The light from the flame could not reach every wall, but she was not curious about what was to her left or right. Instead she made her way up the expansive stone steps. One. Two. Three. Four. In the darkness she could hear something breathing. Heavy, deep, loud breathing. It had been soft at first, but it seemed to echo around the space and steadily grew with every step she took. She could hear it in her ears, she could feel it within her body, her lungs tried to match it as her heartbeat twisted with the sound. The flame of her lantern was going out. She was not concerned. 

_Darkness_ . 

There was nothing. She was again in endless blackness, trapped in a cold void. But she didn’t feel fear, she didn’t feel she _needed_ to be afraid. Her heartbeat was still calm, it still matched the breathing. The heavy, deep, booming breathing. 

It was in front of her, the source. She could not see it with her eyes, but she could feel the presence. It was tall- several heads taller than her. It’s presence was dominating. It exerted a pressure onto her form even if she did not quake. She lifted her head to meet it’s gaze even if she could not see it. Her hand rose to touch, even if she didn’t know what she was reaching for. 

Up the path stone burners burst to life. Pair after pair blazed with hot flames which shunned the shadows and the darkness. This allowed her to see the beast before her, the monster which lived so comfortably in the darkness. 

_Power._

It was twice as tall and twice as wide. Large taut muscles made deep lines in dark blue flesh, and the veins swelled anytime one of four arms flexed. Above her the black eyes in the ram’s face stared down at her- gaze piercing, devouring like the darkness. It would shift it’s head and the thick wool would rock with the curved horns on its head. 

There was such an exertion of might from it that she couldn’t find words to describe it. Her mouth would open, but no words could pass. She’d try to move her lifted hand, but it would no longer shift. She stared, locked in awe of this mighty creature. Most would quiver before such a beast, to cower in fear or crumble with dread as the pressure weighed heavy on them. How easy it could crush her in one hand or even beneath it’s wide foot. 

But she felt no fear. She stared up, staring straight into the dark eyes, staring straight into the void, the emptiness just as she had before. Her hand reached further as if to somehow reach it’s maw. Closer. Closer. _Closer…_

_Darkness._

…   
…   
… 

Alma’s eyes opened. She had to take a small bit of time to come out of her sleepy haze as she fluttered her lids and lifted her head from her arms. There was still fatigue in her body and she stretched her arms above her with a restrained moan. “Ngggg… I guess I’ve been here a while if I-“ 

Wait. 

She pressed herself out of her chair so fast that it tumbled behind her and clattered to the floor. In her rush she almost tumbled with it, but her tail shot downward to help her find balance and pulled herself upright again. Not having hurt herself was of no importance to her as she darted her eyes around the books she’d stacked on the floor. There was one she read, there was _one_ she remembered scanning and dismissed because they didn’t mention primals. But maybe that’s not what she was looking for in that book. Maybe the language was wrong. 

It was under two other books, but she remembered the grey cover. It had been one of the simpler bindings, as if the person writing it did not wish to dedicate the time to make it visually appealing. Her fascination had been less in the content and more the fact that each letter was written exactly as it had been previously. But she did remember the drawings beside certain entries. Eventually she found it. 

_‘Ideology and Mythos of Ivalice. Observations by Legatus Mateus van Imparat of the IInd’_

“Where did I see it where did I see it where did I see it,” Alma stated over and over on repeat as she flipped through the pages back and forth. There had been a section dedicated to something in which the word had caught her eye: Lucavi. The name meant nothing to her at the time, but after such a nightmare her curiosity was piqued. 

Finally she paused as she found a familiar picture then flipped back a few pages to the beginning of the chapter. 

“The Lucavi are thought to be creatures of another world,” she read aloud as she scanned the text, “these unseen worlds cannot be reached by mortal means. They are hailed as gods, protectors of the dead, or even sources of evil which brings darkness to a perons’ heart. While these scions hail from these invisible dark planes, if certain requirements are met, they are thought to manifest physically into our world. A pact can be made between a person and this esper to use a shard of their power to fight on their behalf.” 

A realization hit her as she finished the statement. A summoner. He was describing a summoner. 

“In ages long before the formation of this country, there were legends that these Lucavi took different forms in order to wreak havoc upon the mortal world. By usage of auracite which were tied to their souls, they could manipulate desires or hatred of a man and consume him, giving them full control in a type of possession…” 

There was something terrifying with that last statement, and she bit her bottom lip at the thought. To be possessed by something… to have your body and will taken from you. Her heart dropped into her stomach, yet she flipped to the next page. 

There was a large golden beast that reminded her of a Ronso. Another was some sort of twisted blob with a black slash down the middle and stitched loosely together. Her stomach churned at the sight but she flipped to the next: a bat winged creature which the best she could describe as a skull faced demon. It was on the next page she found her quarry. 

It was exactly what she’d seen in her dream. A ram with massive horns on the body of a large man with four arms. Even as she stared at the image, especially at those pitch black eyes, she felt they were looking back at her. She had no real memory of even reading these pages prior to her nap, and yet here he was. 

_Belias the Gigas._

“… could this be considered a primal…?” Alma asked herself with intrigue, though it was somewhat timid given unease spiraling in her stomach. Her fingers rhythmically taped from pinky to thumb along the bottom half of the page. “… wouldn’t a primal of shadow be best to fight off sin eaters who are made of light…?” 

Regardless of the warning sirens going off in her head, she at least had one piece of the puzzle to work with: a name. 

For now she’d borrow this specific book, as well as the one she’d found on theories of Allagans and Primals. Hopefully it would provide further insight. Maybe just take her a few steps further. 

\----- 

Her head hit the desk and she clung to her quill so hard she almost broke it. She’d been here before in this scenario pushing theory after theory forward and still getting no results. In her other hand she twisted her gift from the Exarch: an opaque flat stone with three curved edges. He’d told her it may become useful in her research, but all she’d done with it was use it as a toy for her fidgeting. 

“Come on come on _come on_ !!!” Alma bemoaned. She burst her head up and hung it backwards over the chair’s support. “The glyph is perfect! I know I got the name in right so why… why can’t I get it working!!” 

Again her head fell forward to the desk and she rapped it on the surface several times, like the knocking would somehow shake the solution from the recesses of her brain. “I can get all the other spells working fine. I can even get this one to light up! But… nothing ever comes from it!” 

  
Frustrated at her struggles, she gripped the side of the desk and shoved herself backwards. Unfortunately the motion was a bit too strong, and instead she tilted the chair onto its back legs. Before she knew it she was tumbling backwards, screaming. There was no catching her as she slammed against the floor and her head ricocheted off the stone. She rolled herself off to the side and held the length of her aching horns. The pain was so intense that she couldn’t hear anything but a ringing in her ears, blocking out all else as others ran to her aid. 

Her body was still shaking as she was pulled onto her knees by the others. When the pain eased, so too did the ringing. All around her were whispered voices asking if she was alright, if she needed anything, if they had to go get help. The drahn woman could finally focus enough to open her eyes and took in the familiar faces around her. Moren was front and center with his entire expression twisted in concern. It’s when she realized his hands were cupping her face to keep her steady. 

“…. I’m okay…” she finally got out before swallowing down a large gulp of air then letting it escape back up her throat with a gasp, “I’ll be alright I’ll… just a fall I’m clearing up…” As her fingers drifted back over her horns she checked to make sure she’d not chipped them in any way. Thankfully they were no different than they’d ever been. 

“Come now,” Moren whispered as he reached for her hands and used them to guide her up to standing, “you’ve been at this for hours Alma, perhaps it is time for a break?” 

“But I-” 

As she locked eyes with the hume man, her own frustration softened. His face had always been so honest, and his empathy always so clear. Both brows were furrowed to their limits, and though he tried to keep smiling there was still such concern in them. There was no way she could turn away such a gaze and she shook her head left and right. 

“… yea you’re probably right.” 

The tension in his body dropped in an instant and he let out an audible sigh of relief. One hand withdrew from hers and he placed it over his chest before making eye contact with her again. “Good. Good I’ve been worried about you. Even Chantilde mentioned she didn’t know the last time you slept.” 

Alma’s face squished in bewilderment before her lips pulled up to a lopsided smile, soon followed by a nervous laugh. “Chantilde is pretty bad too. I mean I went back to my room last night-” 

“You went out for food a few times, but we all know you didn’t go back to your room. It’s four bells to midnight- you’ve not slept in almost two days.” 

That didn’t sound right, and the thought was obvious on her face as she twisted between disbelief and bewilderment. A couple times she shook her head before lifting her finger and pointed it at her superior. There were words at the tip of her tongue, but she retracted them. Again the digit returned to its extended position and her mouth opened to speak, only to shut it and curl the finger into her fist. 

“… that means I haven’t slept in… what… thirsty-nine bells?” 

He hummed aloud in thought and then nodded his head. “Sounds about right.” But he was not willing to debate her further about her unhealthy focus as he reached around to pat her back and try to get her moving. “I understand you’re rather into your work. Mayhap it would be best if you were to take a break? At least one nap. If you still feel good to continue? I’ll let you- only until I leave. And then you’re to return home and _sleep_ .” 

Alma’s face softened in defeat, but she could not argue the login in his words. Her head swayed back and forth as she whimpered through her nose before letting her shoulders sink. “… you’re right Moren.” 

“ _And_ after you sleep, you are not allowed into the Cabinet tomorrow,” Moren stated as he punctuated each word in the hopes of making it stick. Though he was being stern with her, there was still that glowing smile on his face. “No work from home either.” 

Her head turned at lightning speed so she could meet his eyes again. Both freckled cheeks puffed full of air and her tail whipped back and forth behind her. “Come on that’s not fair!!!” 

The scream summoned up ‘shhs’ from the other patrons reading. She pulled her shoulders and head inward with fresh shame; even her tail flattened against her backside. 

“No need to be sad, it is for the best,” he hummed in a slight sing-song voice as he patted her shoulder, “I’ll have them pack up your work so you can access it bright and early in two da…ys…” 

His words drifted off as he glanced to the floor. The chair still had its legs off the floor, but beside it he spotted the dull flat crystal she had been toying with before. Moren moved over to it then bent down at the waist to pick it, He returned to her side with it pinched between thumb and pointer finger. “You dropped this? What… is it?” 

“Oh!” Alma patted her sides as if she was looking for it in her pockets, having quickly forgotten it had been in her hand during her research. She reached forward so she could pluck it from his hand and flipped it a couple times by twisting her wrist. “I don’t know to be honest. The Exarch gave it to me after I left the Crystal Tower. He said it would help? Not sure how…” 

“He is not a man who would donate something without intent, so it must have some purpose.” To get them moving again he put his shoulder on the center of her back and gave an easy, but still intentful shove so they could move their feet. 

She shrugged her shoulders round and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Years of riddles I would have loved to have _one_ clue just be obvious…” 

Defeat soon took her and her head hung forward, groaning. Moren, however, could not hold back his amusement and chuckled under his breath as he opened the door to the private rare books room that also acted as one of the staffs’ private lounging room. “Now now. It would be no fun for any of us if everything was simple. Revel in the challenge as you always have Alma. But first-” Again he gave her a firm pat on her shoulder. “- you nap.” 

The drahn woman murmured jibberish under her breath and nodded head with a shifting bounce. She whispered ‘okay’ over and over again as she turned and flopped back on the couch. “…. can I at least come in to grab-” 

“No.” His smile remained bright and happy as he stepped backwards towards the open door, reached for the handle, and slid it closed while still watching her. “Sleep well Alma. Just relax, yes?” Moments later it clicked shut. 

Alma growled as she turned her head to face the plain ceiling. Her mind was still twisting with so many thoughts about the books she’d read and the spells she’d been practicing. She didn’t think she could sleep so easily as he’d said. The inscriptions were still clear within her mind’s eye, and she dragged a mental quil over the shapes. As she did she continued to flick the flat crystal like a wheel while it was pinched between pointer finger and thumb. 

“… I’ve got a name. What _more_ do I need…” 

Another frustrated sigh slipped out her nose and she let her eyes shut and her body sink into the soft couch. 

“Maybe I should pick up a new project for a time… this is going nowhere…” 

…  
…  
… 

_Darkness._

A pitch black void surrounded her. It seemed endless in every direction whenever she turned her head. As she looked to her hands she could pick up the faint glow from her aqua limbal rings. Beyond that there was no light to guide her vision. There was nothing in her hands or anything within reach to alleviate her blindness. 

_Breathing._

It had been quiet at first, as if it were yalms away. Low, heavy, deep breaths. It added a smell to the air she picked up under her nose. Dry soil, heat, sweat, fur, dung, copper, _rot_ . 

_Thump._

Footsteps, but they didn’t sound like feet she knew. Not bare or covered. They were far too heavy. They shook the ground beneath her with each foot fall. Each one was hard, clacking like wooden soles, but not clicking like sabatons. Growing closer, closer, _closer…_

There was no light this time, no fire that lit the room. Yet he crossed a threshold that pulled the shadows from him like a curtain. His tall form stood over her, dominating, powerful. Everything inside of her told her to be afraid. That this beast could crush her without a thought. He was dangerous, he was deadly. 

Yet she felt no fear. She has no need to fear the dark, the shadows, or _him_ . 

_Monster._

“Belias the Gigas.” Alma inhaled heavily, held the air in her lungs, then slowly released it. 

Even without speaking a word, she could feel the pressure around her. It was burdensome on her body, as if it wished to push her down; to make her small, to put her to heel. Before him she was a small creature- simple, fragile, _pathetic_ . Meanwhile he carried a power that he wore like a mantle, to exert strength without even needing to lift one of his many arms. 

Yet she felt no fear. She continued to stare into the void in his gaze just as she had before. She had no need to fear the dark, the shadows, or _him._

**_“I am come.”_ **

His voice was booming. It seemed to echo in this endless space as if thousands of voices rang out with his own. The deep, guttural sound of him was the same as his form: substantial, placing weight on her body and especially in her mind. A normal person before him would quiver even hearing his voice. 

Yet she felt no fear. She took in his words and nodded her head. She had no need to fear the dark, the shadows, or _him._

“Why do you come before me?” she asked before realizing it was the wrong question. He had not come here, she had. “… I misspoke. How have _I_ come to stand before you?” 

There was a gruff noise that slipped out his nose- something between a snort and a chuckle. It filled the air around her with that same warm smell, with certain ones more potent than before: dung, copper, _rot._

**_“Twas you who called. Twas I who answered.”_ **

Her brows met above her nose. She was befuddled by the statement, but he wasn’t wrong. All this time she’d been looking for a name, and he was the first she’d found. 

**_“Shall you behold for true the fell power of the dark?”_ **

The exerting pressure bore down on her further, her knees felt like they’d break under the weight. She could not move her arms, take a step, or move her head in any other direction. It’s heaviest point was on the top of her face in an attempt to push her gaze from him, like she was not worthy. Her mortal soul was not worthy- no mortal’s soul would be worthy. He did not see them as equal, he saw them as toys, or food to consume. That he and the darkness would tear her asunder her if he wished it. 

**_“Think you worthy?”_ **

Yet she felt no fear. Without thinking, she knew the answer. She had no need to fear the dark, the shadows, or _him._

“Yes.” 

She lifted a hand from her side and reached for him. It pressed at the lowest point of his sternum, and under her palm she could feel him and know he was as real as she was. Taut muscles as strong as steel, a pounding heartbeat as slow as the ticking of a clock, and such heat. 

Before she knew it the darkness swelled into her form. It curled up the veins from her fingertips and over her wrists. She could see it, she could _feel it_ traveling up her arm through her veins. 

Still she felt no fear. Instead she welcomed the dark, the shadows, and _him_ . 

…  
…  
… 

Alma burst up from the couch gasping for air. She was frigid and her body shuddered from the cold. As she reached for her forehead she soon realized why. Every ilm of her body was covered with a thin sheet of sweat and she could feel it sticking to her robes. She groaned loudly with disgusted irritation as she sat herself upright and pulled at the fabric with one hand. While she couldn’t smell herself from the sweat, the level of stickiness was uncomfortable in ways she could not describe. 

“Ug it’s on the couch…?” she bemoaned as she looked back to the leather surface and saw the droplets that had escaped from the backside of her robe. Again she lifted her arm to rub over her forehead with a grimacing face. “I feel so _nasty._ I gotta stop having nap nightmares…” 

A few times she tilted her head around to take in her surroundings. This was still one of the side storage rooms of the Cabinet of Curiosities. The smell of old texts and scrolls in the very dry room was familiar to her. She certainly wasn’t dreaming any longer, but there was still something off she could not put her finger on- 

Wait. 

Her right hand was clinging to the crystal the Exarch had offered her. She’d forgotten that Moren had given it back to her, but she swore she’d pocketed it before she slept. Regardless of how it had ended up back in her grip again she flipped the palm upright to look at it. 

The once dull, murky crystal had changed. It seemed more polished than before, and it’s color changed to opaque dark blue with waves of blue-violet all joining at the center, meeting at what she could best describe as a twisted soul. Staring at it her eyes fluttered in shock. There was a weight to the stone she didn’t notice prior, and there was a pulse of unfamiliar aether as well. Something had _happened_ to it while she was sleeping. 

Was that an austerite ritual? The trial to bind a piece of Belias’ power for her to summon? 

She could only stare completely dumbfounded. 

“… what just happened…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanna know how much of a fucking nerd i am for FFT? I am literally using quotes from the battle with Belias in FFT.  
> Look let me have FFT Lucavi in FFXIV to summon and I'll go back and play the glass. Fuck Bahamut and Phoenix give me Ultima. 
> 
> Also I made up the Legatus name from another RP with Sun and I am happy to just use it.


End file.
